Saturday, June 30, 2012

Just as I started my “Notes from the Field – Argentina Edition” in an airport, I will begin this last post from one. I have a good two and a half hours before my flight, but Jimmy’s (my husband) flight was earlier, (since he booked it after mine was booked by Dream On, the company hosting my tour), and we wanted to come to the airport together. It felt odd for me to be the one on the other side of security, as he walked away.
My last three shows on this “storytelling bootcamp/marathon” went well, which was soothing because on my last four show day this week I: A)felt like my voice was totally going B)couldn’t hear if the mike was working C) had kids whose English wasn’t as great as most of the others I had encountered, but they were “tweens” so stories I would use with limited language younger kids would be “babyish” for them D)Was at a school new to Dream On, and hence wanted to make a good impression for this company, whom I have grown to have a really, really deep love and respect for. I mean, all things considered, it wasn’t a disaster, but it was hard work, and it definitely wasn’t prefect which is one of the things that this tour has, once again, taught me.
Carrie Parker, one of my FAVORITE yoga teachers coined a phrase I love “perfectly imperfect” – that’s what we humans are, and that, for the most part is what life is. Sometimes we get caught in thinking life is what we see at the end of the movies, when the couples have reunited, and the credits roll, or, if you’re a storytelling – when the words “happily ever after” come out of your lips. But, who is it that said,”Happily ever after all depends on when you end the story.” The GREAT musical, “Into the Woods” plays on that concept – that after the fairytale wedding, after the hero ends his journey – then what? Is life forever more “perfect”. And, is it supposed to be?
One of the gifts of telling stories is that each and every time, it is new. During an experience like this, it was so very interesting to me to really see that – despite that I may have told the same story many times in one week, each time it was different. And often, it was the “imperfections” that made them most special, most alive. One instance was when I invited some children into my story – it was a school that smelled like art – from the moment you entered you could smell the paint, glue, and creativity in the air. Because their English was limited, I took the chance to model for them, and then have them act out a bit of the tale. The first set of kids acted as I thought, and set them up to, but the second set, didn’t – they got creative, and because they did, I did, too. I found, in this already new way of approaching this tale, an even more playful, risky, and alive way to bring this ancient story to life. Because the kids were up there, it was perfect and imperfect all at the same time. It was, to coin Carrie’s phrase “Perfectly Imperfect”, and it was also what was needed, and what worked.
Thanks to my work as a clown, I often take risks, I am always exploring, and never, ever, ever tell stories exactly the same, and this trip both validated, and strengthened those “muscles” in me. It is in fact why, even today, after three straight weeks of storytelling, I am not burnt out, why I am eager to go home, and tell some more! I can’t help but see that if I could only approach the challenges that life throws me in the same manner I tackle those tricky storytelling moments – staying open, playful, creative, instead of tense, upset, and irate – my life would be as much fun as these storytelling performances have been.
The second of the three lessons that I am leaving Argentina with comes from my own saying “It’s good to go, but it’s good to come back, too!” I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the fact that though, I am a traveler, be it for work, or be it for play – there ALWAYS comes a time when I am ready to come home. Even when Jimmy and I have been in places as stunning as Alaska or Rome, there is always a moment at the end of our adventure, when a voice in me “Let’s go back. Let’s take the inspiration we’ve just received and use it in our everyday lives.” And that excites me – it tells me that somehow I have managed to cobble together this crazy storyteller/clown/yoga teacher life, and it works for me. I went into this trip wondering if, with all the storytelling, I would even miss my work as a clown and yoga teacher, if, maybe I should just pick one thing – storytelling, and throw all my energy behind it. Maybe I would be better off, less pulled in three sometimes different directions, more “successful” – but I think I have always known this about myself. I am a woman with MANY, MANY interests, and somehow being three things at once is what I love to do, because I missed those other parts of myself, and want to return to them. AND, I see how those components of myself help me to do what I have been doing here. As I said earlier, the clowning, gives me the gift to play, to surf the moment and energy, to be open, vulnerable, and alive. And yoga, ohhhhh yoga, it is what gets my body, mind, and intentions in the right mood. I allows me to take the physical risks I take on stage, focus my mind in those moments, and keeps bringing me, time and time again back to my mission – to serve my audience. I am thankful that I have those resources to pull from, and overjoyed to be returning to them.
And, the my last word on this tour is really a love letter to Dream On Productions, and it’s founder and director, Alberto, his staff of Sonia, Marcela, Carol, Sol, and Yulie. I have NEVER, EVER, EVER had people treat “storyteller me” with such respect as these people have treated me. I have NEVER, EVER, EVER felt like a group of people understood what storytelling is, what it takes, why it is special, and why, without sounding overly important AN ART. At a party that was given in the honor of Priscilla Howe (an amazing woman, who has done 4 of these tours!!!) and I, we were asked to say three words that we felt described our experience with Dream On thus far. I had been here a week, Priscilla, two. I instantly thought of the word “welcome” because they were, from the very moment of my arrival to these last moments of my stay, I have been treated like an honored guest. The second was “inspired” because the level of English in the children was so great, that it inspired me to bring my A+++++ game to them, and to their teachers who clearly are doing many, many, many things right. And, at the time my third word was “utilized” because I felt like I was being of service, being put to good use. But, as it always is, afterwards, I thought of something else, and that is “appreciated” and “respected”. I often say that the hardest part of being a storyteller (and a clown for that matter) is explaining exactly what it is I do. How can I, without it turning into a lecture, tell people that it is an ancient art form, that there are folktales from every culture, that there are stories that are for ALL AGES, that there is mystery, lessons, and healing in the words and images of these gems. How can I get them to understand, that it is not a stepping stone to being a “real actress” – as some folks think, that it is where I want to be, because I get to inhabit these amazing journeys, and bring them, in my own way to my audiences from pre-schoolers to adults.
The staff at Dream On Productions “get” in a true, deep way what storytelling is, what storytellers do, and the magic that happens when the tales hit the ears and hearts of the audience. And that, has been the greatest gift to me from these three weeks. I hope I can hold onto that love, appreciation, and respect on those days, I am not feeling so loved and understood as a teller of folktales. I pray that I can always see the faces of the Dream On staff making me feel welcomed, inspired, and appreciated over and over again, as I try to do justice to the ART of storytelling.
Good night Argentina – Good Morning New York!!!

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

I can barely believe it, but my time in storytelling in Argentina will be up in four days. As I stated in my last post, one of the parts thst I have come to cherish most is the question and answer section at the end of the performances. I have ALWAYS loved the frankness, openess, and down right funniest of the questions of children. They dare to ask the things that we all want to, but don't because we have on our "social filters". But during these times I encourage them to ask me ANYTHING - except about math, because I suck at that - but ANYTHING. And, they have.
Some of my favorites have been about my hair - here in Argentina, NO woman has hair shorter than their shoulders, so my, "barely there hair" is a bit of a shock. Today, in the cutest, most polite way, a group of kids asked to touch it> "So soft!" they said, as the teachers looked on in horror!! But, why not - many AFrican Americans havent' touched hair that has not been chemically treated, so why should these children have any idea what my curls feel like??
Queries have ranged from: Do you like all the stories you tell? Where do you find them? Do you write your own? to What famous person do you know? Have you tried dulce de leche? But my favorite questions came the other day, from a trio of teen age boys, who, from the surface looked like they were not engaged AT ALL!!
They were sitting in a triangle, the tallest of the three looking - to my eyes, the least engaged of all. But then - came question time. "Julie," he said, "Are American politians as strange as they seem?" I was shocked!! They then went on to name political figures, and comedians: Chris Rock, John Stewart, Stephen Colbert - knowing both the subject matter, and the art of parody, better than most adults I know, much less any teen age kid I tell stories for. They asked my opinions - I gave them - but I won't here, about politics, celebrity, culture in American. And, after we HAD to stop ( I was alread 20 minutes over)they walked away discussing politics IN ENGLISH!!
One of the young men said he wanted to be a comeidan ala Chris Rock, the other wanted to be a politician, the other a community leader - I hope, I pray, I wish - that they all do. What a smart, funny world we have to look forward to, if they do.
SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG TO POST - MY COMPUTER IS A BIT WACKY - SO I AM USING SOMEONE ELSE'S SO MUCH TO DAY - THERE WILL BE MORE!!!!! THANKS FOR READING!!!

Saturday, June 16, 2012

STORYTELLING IN ARGENTINA
QUESTIONS
One of the things that has been sooooooooooooooo WONDERFUL about telling stories here in Argentina is the little question and answer period after my stories have been told. Sometimes they start off slowly – but usually once the ball gets rolling, it is REALLY hard to stop it.
I get the usuals, of course: how old are you, do you have a dog, a pet, a husband, children?? Then I get the how do you like Argentina questions: do I know who Messi is (futbol player), have I tasted Mate (a tea type drink), do I like dulce de leche (they do like their sweets here!!) Then we move onto the personal and lifestyle section: am I famous (before I answer that I have to stop laughing!! A storyteller – FAMOUS???? HA! HA!), do I live in a house or an apartment or house, how long have I been telling stories, how did I come to tell stories, and that most important question of all – have I met Justin Beiber (he is becoming a theme of my travels!!)
And then, every once in a while, I get a really insightful question like, “How did you learn to improvise??” This from a young man of about eleven. I was floored by that question, because what that told me is that he realized something fundamental to storytelling – that it is not a script. That though, especially right now when I am doing four shows a day – sometimes repeating material, sometimes not – each and every time I perform, it is COMPLETELY different!! That is one of the things that I love about storytelling, and that makes it such a wonderful art – it demands a relationship with the audience, it demands I see them, so I know how to tell the tale. As I look at the faces, and see what it is that they are responding to, I can better gear my performance to the needs of the situation. I go with what is truly alive at that moment – I improvise.
What that young man picked up on, and was able to verbalize, is something that MANY people don’t get about storytelling. He saw and acknowledged that that performance was a one time thing – that was that days telling, never to be repeated again. Even if I told the same story to the same group of kids, it would be different the next time, because every single second is different, and the art of storytelling honors that. With four shows a day, I can’t even remember what school that kid was in, just two days later, but, whoever you are – THANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A QUESTION OF IDENTITY
From the moment I arrived in Buenos Aires, and saw the cobblestone streets of the San Telmo barrio where I would be staying, and the gorgeous grey roofs, and the long shuttered windows, I couldn’t help but feel like I was in Europe. Every street I ventured down reminded me of Paris or Rome. I learned on my second day here, that the reason I felt that way was because that was exactly what much of Buenos Aires was designed to be like: Europe.
I learned on my bike tour that Plaza De Mayo, what is known as the heart of the city, was set up like the Spaniards would, and that the raison d’etre (to be French, and therefore European)behind the GORGEOUS opera house, Teatre Colon, was to rival the Paris Opera House, to show to the world that Argentina was as good as any country on the continent of Europe. Talking to a teacher at one of the schools I performed at, I learned that some 40% of Argentines consider themselves European instead of South American. It made me kind of sad to think that this vibrant, gusty, cultured city was trying so hard to measure up to somewhere else, and that perhaps its people didn’t see it as I, an outsider could – full of beauty, and it’s own distinct flavor. But just as I was about to mentally scold Buenos Aires for wanting to be something other than it was, I realized that since I got here, I, too, have been doing a bit of that myself.
Dream On Productions, who is the company promoting, and running this marvelous storytelling tour I’m on, has been sending tellers to some of the schools that I have been sent to for several years. The teachers and staff have come to love their yearly visits from these English speakers who bring tales from around the world, and from their own lives, and as to be expected, each school has had it’s own favorite teller. Because your “first storyteller” is often the one you “imprint on” (the thing a baby bird does when it first gets out of the shell – taking the first thing it sees as it’s mother, even if it’s a rock, and loving it with all it’s little birdy might!), it’s not uncommon for a teacher, a student, an administrator to think that Storyteller A is THE BEST IN THE WORLD, and while you might do a good job, you are not Storyteller A!
As someone who is actively trying to bring more humility in my life, coming into a place where a school’s “first storyteller” left so much of a mark that EVERYONE pales in comparison, was just the way to be humbled. But I quickly learned that in this instance, that trying to be humble could quickly slide into, “ Gee, why can’t I be more like Storyteller A. Maybe I should tell stories the way they do. “ Just like those folks who, long ago, wanted Buenos Aires to look European instead of South American, I was caught for a moment in trying to be what I was not.
And in these first few days of being here thinking about all this, it is the city itself who has helped me believe in myself. Because despite all the planning of European designers, architects, and city planners, Buenos Aires is not Europe – it’s it own place, it’s own city, it has it’s own vibe – it is unique.
And that’s what I have always loved about storytelling, that there are as many ways to tell tales as there are stars in the sky. Tellers are like snowflakes, no two the same – and they shouldn’t be. So, to quote the musical, Evita, “Don’t cry for me, Argentina.” You have inspired me to be as individual as your own dynamic capital city!!

Sunday, June 10, 2012

THIS MONTH I AM IN ARGENTINA ON A TELLING STORIES TO CHILDREN LEARNING ENGLISH. FOR THE FIRST TIME I'M GOING TO BE BLOGGING IN "REAL TIME" WITH (HOPEFULLY) DAILY UPDATES!
STORYTELLING IN ARGENTINA ENTRY ONE
On the Road: As I had to choke back my customary tears as I walked away from my husband at the airport security check point, I was once again reminded of my complicated love affair for work travel. Make NO MISTAKE – I LOVE, I MEAN LOVE TO TRAVEL – I always have since my father used to take my youngest brother and I to JFK airport, where he worked at the post office, to watch the flights take off and land. This was, of course, in a different time, when you could stroll all the way up to any gate, and Robby and I used to bring suitcases filled with nothing, just so we could look like we were going somewhere.
My mother’s mother, Nanny, was the first intrepid traveler I knew, she was a widow for most of the time I knew her (a brief marriage to a jerk named Irving slowed her down for a little while) – and as a kid it was she who went to that wondrous place – DISNEY WORLD, and frequently went to that darker, more mysterious place of her birth – “The Islands” (meaning the Caribbean). She brought my sisters and brothers and I trinkets of her travels, and the year she brought me back a castle from Disney, with all the figurines of all the major players in the Disney animated films, I vowed in my little soul to visit that place, and many more.
As the youngest of a family of six kids, who were growing up in Queens – which, while not as expensive as Manhattan, was still a pricey proposition for my decidedly middle-middle class parents – travel was not something we did. A subway ride to Chinatown the weekend before school opened, and a few trips to Rockaway beach was the extent of our summer travel. When my oldest sister went to graduate school in Michigan, we all took the road trip there as our vacation. And when she took a job in Washington, DC, we again, loaded up the station wagon, and made that the family outing. Most of the other kids in our neighborhood had relatives “down south”, so they would talk about their summers there with grandparents and cousins – but because they also brought back stories of a place with no subways, and something called chitlins – some sort of food made from a pigs intestines – I was not at all sad that we Pasquals were New Yorkers through and through.
High school was different, though, for now I had friends who’s relatives lived in London and France. And my Manhattan born and bred friends, and their families went skiing in Vermont, had houses in Block Island, Rhode Island, and went on cruises – while I, had no passport, and had never been on a plane.
But that all changed the moment I entered my senior year in high school. Determined – to my mother’s MAJOR chagrin, to actually try to make it as a professional dancer, I began to audition for summer stock musicals during March of my senior year. Dumb luck, fate, and destiny all must have played a hand, because I landed the very first audition I attended. It was a tiny theatre in Upstate NY, and while I was going to take a bus there, because I was leaving a week before my graduation, my parents gave me as a gift, an hour and a half flight back home to don my cap and gown for the ceremony. And so, my traveling life began. For the next almost 20 years, I traveled in cars, vans, buses, and airplanes across 48 or the 50 states (just knocked off number 49 earlier this year – only have Hawaii to go). I became a REALLY good packer, never bringing what I couldn’t physically carry myself, learning how to stuff my undies and socks into my shoes, thriving on sleeping in any position that the situation demanded.
I also got really good at in those years, of saying goodbye, and of keeping friendships shallow, and keeping to myself – the life of a “gypsy” means that you are with one group of really talented people for a few months, and then you all go your separate ways on a new gig. I did the typical thing of having some tour romances – getting involved with guys I had nothing in common with, except the fact that they were, well – THERE, but then I learned not to fall prey to the “add water and mix” relationships that being on tour lends itself too. In this way, never being home was easy. For I LOVED, AND LOVE exploring - getting up early, rather than staying up later after a show was my thing, and I would roam the cities and places I was in – museums, shops, local dance studios, parks, hidden restaurants – I was fascinated by it all.
In addition, I couldn’t get enough of hotel living – I mean, you leave your room, and somebody makes your bed – there was cable TV, when in my apartment in NYC I had a television that barely worked, there was a gym right down stairs, and room and laundry service if I wanted it – for someone who has problems even remembering to wash out the glass I just had my ice tea in – this is paradise.
And the kicker was, I was getting paid – to perform and travel – SERIOUSLY – how cool was that??? My passions coming together in one beautiful experience, and I had the frequent flyer miles to prove it!! But then, something happened – something that I really and truly didn’t think would happen to me – I fell in love.
I wasn’t brought up with the notion: who will you marry? My parents drummed into our heads: what will you do? So when Jimmy asked me out that first time, I was thinking:1) he’s a stage hand, not an performer, so that’s good 2) I was doing a show in NJ, so I was home with my more or less usual life, so this wasn’t an “instant relationship” 3) He’s got red hair, and that’s rare!!! But, I was NOT thinking, “This man is the love of my life, and is going to make me hate getting on a plane for work, because I’m going to feel like my guts are being ripped out, and like I’m a three year old lost in an amusement park without their parents!!” But that’s exactly what did happen.
Having met me “on the job”, and having worked in theatre his whole career, Jimmy knew what my life was like. Just a few months after we started dating, I was off on the road for four months. This was WAY before skype or even email, so good old fashioned phone calls were the thing, and he would almost always come out and visit me. I was still grateful and happy to be performing and traveling, but now, I was leaving something – someone, behind, and instead of never wanting the job to end, I began to count the days, the minute my plane left the gate.
I discovered storytelling, and clowning shortly after we got serious, and the new creative challenges of those things, plus the ability to better control my schedule (no more – the job starts next week in Kansas City – GO!!), helped me make the decision to “come off the road”. This new chapter in my life has proven GLORIOUS – I have the most important things in life: a man I love, and who treats me WAY better than I deserve to be treated, AND performance opportunities that are creative, fun, serve people, and allow me to be at home – AND travel. Because in this phase of my life, I have gone INTERNATIONAL!! Through my clowning work I got to Paris, and then Jimmy joined me and we vacationed in London and Amsterdam. I’ve danced with my comedy dance partner at a clowning festival in China, and I’ve had the honor of performing and teaching circus and physical comedy skills with Clowns Without Borders in Haiti, twice.
And now – Argentina!!! I have to admit that when I got the first email from Dream On Productions about telling stories in English to kids just learning English in Argentina, I thought it was some kind of a scam. But, after Jimmy and I researched it, and saw it was on the up and up, my bag began to pack. As always, my excitement was tempered by the fact that it was three weeks, and we weren’t sure at first if Jimmy would be able to come – he had missed out on my China adventure, and I regret that I can only describe what the “stinky tofu” smelled like to him, and that he didn’t get a whiff of it himself (it’s odd what memories you come back with!!) But when we figured out that he would be able to come for two of my three weeks – I felt myself fill with ease.
And so, here I am on the first leg of my flight to Argentina, I began writing this to stem the tears that came to my eyes the moment I was on one side of the security gate and he was on another. Even though he will be at my side in five days, and I will be doing what I love, performing, and traveling, I know I will not be at my best, until my husband is at my side. But, I suppose that is a good thing, a great thing really, because as much as I love to entertain, amuse, and even educate people, as much as I adore seeing the world, it is nice to know that in my heart, the topmost and deepest region is ruled not by my career(s) or my interests, but by my love for my husband, Jim.

FROM JUNE 12TH - 29TH I AM IN ARGENTINA TELLING STORIES FOR CHILDREN IN ENGLISH IN THEIR SCHOOLS. WHAT FOLLOWS ARE MY ADVENTURES AND DISCOVERIES ON THIS TOUR!
STORYTELLING IN ARGENTINA ENTRY ONE
On the Road/June 9th-10th: As I had to choke back my customary tears as I walked away from my husband at the airport security check point, I was once again reminded of my complicated love affair for work travel. Make NO MISTAKE – I LOVE, I MEAN LOVE TO TRAVEL – I always have since my father used to take my youngest brother and I to JFK airport, where he worked at the post office, to watch the flights take off and land. This was, of course, in a different time, when you could stroll all the way up to any gate, and Robby and I used to bring suitcases filled with nothing, just so we could look like we were going somewhere.
My mother’s mother, Nanny, was the first intrepid traveler I knew, she was a widow for most of the time I knew her (a brief marriage to a jerk named Irving slowed her down for a little while) – and as a kid it was she who went to that wondrous place – DISNEY WORLD, and frequently went to that darker, more mysterious place of her birth – “The Islands” (meaning the Caribbean). She brought my sisters and brothers and I trinkets of her travels, and the year she brought me back a castle from Disney, with all the figurines of all the major players in the Disney animated films, I vowed in my little soul to visit that place, and many more.
As the youngest of a family of six kids, who were growing up in Queens – which, while not as expensive as Manhattan, was still a pricey proposition for my decidedly middle-middle class parents – travel was not something we did. A subway ride to Chinatown the weekend before school opened, and a few trips to Rockaway beach was the extent of our summer travel. When my oldest sister went to graduate school in Michigan, we all took the road trip there as our vacation. And when she took a job in Washington, DC, we again, loaded up the station wagon, and made that the family outing. Most of the other kids in our neighborhood had relatives “down south”, so they would talk about their summers there with grandparents and cousins – but because they also brought back stories of a place with no subways, and something called chitlins – some sort of food made from a pigs intestines – I was not at all sad that we Pasquals were New Yorkers through and through.
High school was different, though, for now I had friends who’s relatives lived in London and France. And my Manhattan born and bred friends, and their families went skiing in Vermont, had houses in Block Island, Rhode Island, and went on cruises – while I, had no passport, and had never been on a plane.
But that all changed the moment I entered my senior year in high school. Determined – to my mother’s MAJOR chagrin, to actually try to make it as a professional dancer, I began to audition for summer stock musicals during March of my senior year. Dumb luck, fate, and destiny all must have played a hand, because I landed the very first audition I attended. It was a tiny theatre in Upstate NY, and while I was going to take a bus there, because I was leaving a week before my graduation, my parents gave me as a gift, an hour and a half flight back home to don my cap and gown for the ceremony. And so, my traveling life began. For the next almost 20 years, I traveled in cars, vans, buses, and airplanes across 48 or the 50 states (just knocked off number 49 earlier this year – only have Hawaii to go). I became a REALLY good packer, never bringing what I couldn’t physically carry myself, learning how to stuff my undies and socks into my shoes, thriving on sleeping in any position that the situation demanded.
I also got really good at in those years, of saying goodbye, and of keeping friendships shallow, and keeping to myself – the life of a “gypsy” means that you are with one group of really talented people for a few months, and then you all go your separate ways on a new gig. I did the typical thing of having some tour romances – getting involved with guys I had nothing in common with, except the fact that they were, well – THERE, but then I learned not to fall prey to the “add water and mix” relationships that being on tour lends itself too. In this way, never being home was easy. For I LOVED, AND LOVE exploring - getting up early, rather than staying up later after a show was my thing, and I would roam the cities and places I was in – museums, shops, local dance studios, parks, hidden restaurants – I was fascinated by it all.
In addition, I couldn’t get enough of hotel living – I mean, you leave your room, and somebody makes your bed – there was cable TV, when in my apartment in NYC I had a television that barely worked, there was a gym right down stairs, and room and laundry service if I wanted it – for someone who has problems even remembering to wash out the glass I just had my ice tea in – this is paradise.
And the kicker was, I was getting paid – to perform and travel – SERIOUSLY – how cool was that??? My passions coming together in one beautiful experience, and I had the frequent flyer miles to prove it!! But then, something happened – something that I really and truly didn’t think would happen to me – I fell in love.
I wasn’t brought up with the notion: who will you marry? My parents drummed into our heads: what will you do? So when Jimmy asked me out that first time, I was thinking:1) he’s a stage hand, not an performer, so that’s good 2) I was doing a show in NJ, so I was home with my more or less usual life, so this wasn’t an “instant relationship” 3) He’s got red hair, and that’s rare!!! But, I was NOT thinking, “This man is the love of my life, and is going to make me hate getting on a plane for work, because I’m going to feel like my guts are being ripped out, and like I’m a three year old lost in an amusement park without their parents!!” But that’s exactly what did happen.
Having met me “on the job”, and having worked in theatre his whole career, Jimmy knew what my life was like. Just a few months after we started dating, I was off on the road for four months. This was WAY before skype or even email, so good old fashioned phone calls were the thing, and he would almost always come out and visit me. I was still grateful and happy to be performing and traveling, but now, I was leaving something – someone, behind, and instead of never wanting the job to end, I began to count the days, the minute my plane left the gate.
I discovered storytelling, and clowning shortly after we got serious, and the new creative challenges of those things, plus the ability to better control my schedule (no more – the job starts next week in Kansas City – GO!!), helped me make the decision to “come off the road”. This new chapter in my life has proven GLORIOUS – I have the most important things in life: a man I love, and who treats me WAY better than I deserve to be treated, AND performance opportunities that are creative, fun, serve people, and allow me to be at home – AND travel. Because in this phase of my life, I have gone INTERNATIONAL!! Through my clowning work I got to Paris, and then Jimmy joined me and we vacationed in London and Amsterdam. I’ve danced with my comedy dance partner at a clowning festival in China, and I’ve had the honor of performing and teaching circus and physical comedy skills with Clowns Without Borders in Haiti, twice.
And now – Argentina!!! I have to admit that when I got the first email from Dream On Productions about telling stories in English to kids just learning English in Argentina, I thought it was some kind of a scam. But, after Jimmy and I researched it, and saw it was on the up and up, my bag began to pack. As always, my excitement was tempered by the fact that it was three weeks, and we weren’t sure at first if Jimmy would be able to come – he had missed out on my China adventure, and I regret that I can only describe what the “stinky tofu” smelled like to him, and that he didn’t get a whiff of it himself (it’s odd what memories you come back with!!) But when we figured out that he would be able to come for two of my three weeks – I felt myself fill with ease.
And so, here I am on the first leg of my flight to Argentina, I began writing this to stem the tears that came to my eyes the moment I was on one side of the security gate and he was on another. Even though he will be at my side in five days, and I will be doing what I love, performing, and traveling, I know I will not be at my best, until my husband is at my side. But, I suppose that is a good thing, a great thing really, because as much as I love to entertain, amuse, and even educate people, as much as I adore seeing the world, it is nice to know that in my heart, the topmost and deepest region is ruled not by my career(s) or my interests, but by my love for my husband, Jim.

Julie's Bio

Julie Pasqual is a storyteller who's performances are infused with physicality and movement from her dance training, comic moments from her work in clowning, a deep love of language from her work as an actress, and a love of world cultures and folktales born from her travels to (so far) 49 of the 50 states, and 12 countries. Using all of her performance skills, and an ever present spirit of playfulness, Julie brings stories to audiences from pre-schoolers to prisoners, and everyone in between in single shows, assemblies, workshops, and residencies. Schools, libraries, festivals, museums, group homes, shelters, detention centers, and even weddings, have been some of her venues. When not telling tales, she can be found performing for Healthy Humor, a program designed to bring joy and fun to hospitalized children and their families, teaching the ancient practice of yoga at several studios, and domestic abuse shelters, and travelling to international schools around the globe as a teaching artist for ISTA (International School Theatre Alliance, as well as sweating as much as she can at her local gym!!!

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Upcoming Performances

Many of my “tellings” are private performances for schools, or part of ongoing residencies I have. The following are some venues where the general public can see me. Hope to see you there!!FEBRUARY 2017:2/4/17: Hempstead Library, NY 2PM2/4/17: Battery Park City, NYC 4:30PM2/25/17: Rahway Library, NJ 2PMAPRIL 2017:4/29/17: CT Storytelling Festival, New London, CT, 9AM, 1:30, 7:30!!MAY 2017:Manasquan Library, NJ 3:15PM

SO, WHERE'S JULIE WHEN SHE'S NOT TELLING TALES??

Well, she might be...performing in hospitals for children and their families for Healthy Humor a program designed to bringing humor and joy to the pediatric patients, or she might be...teaching yoga at Hudson Yoga Project in Hoboken, NJ, Yogamaya, The Bhakti Center, or at homeless and women's shelters in NYC. Or she might be...stilt walking, clowning, or dancing at various events. Or she might be travelling as a teaching artist for ISTA (International School Theatre Alliance)

Julie Live!

What They're Saying about Julie!

Julie Pasqual brings stories to LIFE. She is a storyteller of the first magnitude, with a collection of tales from all over the world. If you have the mistaken impression that children are bored by traditional storytelling, Julie will, with one beat of a drum, dance of her feet, or participatory shout from the audience, dispel your reservations. Julie is a true griot, a tribal teller who carries stories forward so that current generation and generations to come can learn the stories and the art of the teller. I have never had Julie at the library when the audience didn't leave smiling from ear to ear and repeating the rhythms and stories that she has taught them.

From Lisa Herskowitz, Youth Services Librarian, East Northport, Public Library.

"Julie Pasqual is one of the best storytellers we have hosted at our library. Julie is a whirlwind of positive energy who knows how to work a room filled with children of varied ages as well as adults. Her performance, which was the perfect blend of humor, physicality, and poignancy, held everyone's attention. Everyone walked out with a smile! I look forward to inviting Julie back in the near future."

To whom it may concern,

Julie Pasqual is a truly amazing performer! From the minute she steps on stage – even if the stage is a respect commanding school chapel or a huge, undecorated school gym – she holds the audience spellbound. Because Dream On Productions has presented more than 40 performances in Argentina by this excellent storyteller, I was treated to a wide variety of tales. My favorite one is “Unana,” a traditional folktale where the mother goes after an elephant who ate her children, and has to be swallowed along with them in order to rescue them. I also love the story of Death and her godson, a story told in cultures throughout the world. Her stories, her voices, her facial expressions, her stage presence make her performances unforgettable.

The fact that she uses the whole of her body to convey emotions and images that get the idea across makes her unique among the excellent performers we normally schedule, and perfect for our audiences of ESL learners.

Julie is furthermore a joy to work with and makes the entire experience not only a delight for the audience but also for the tour organizers. Just to mention a couple of examples, she was most co-operative trying to resolve an issue with a flight schedule change by the airline, and very patient signing autographs for long lines of school children.

In addition to my own opinion expressed above, we have received much feedback thanking Dream On and Julie, full of positive comments from teachers and children. As director of Dream On Productions, I heartily recommend her storytelling skills and professionalism.